


Valentine's Day is For The Brave (A Man Who's Not Afraid)

by RedSkittleCure



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, kind of just gratuitous crack and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSkittleCure/pseuds/RedSkittleCure
Summary: "The third, fourth, and fifth time Frank finds wayward love notes, he adds them to his ever growing collection and doesn’t give them too much thought aside from thinking that for someone who doesn’t really want to be found out, they’re doing a really shitty job of it."Someone has been "sending" Frank love notes for him to inevitably find.Who could it be?(The one where Gerard is Frank's not so secret admirer)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy, yeah, it's a day after Valentine's Day, but it's the thought that counts. And for what it's worth, it was almost finished yesterday!
> 
> Maybe my writing hiatus is finally over and my writer's block will go away for a while.

The first time that he finds a note, Frank brushes it off; it's barely a scrap of paper on the floor and he almost sweeps it into the trash until he notices that the handwriting scrawled on it isn’t his.

He bends down to pick it up, thoroughly examining the tiny slip of paper, trying to pull of the world’s shittiest impersonation of Sherlock Holmes and figure out where it came from just by examining the off white coloring.

“God, Frankie, you are just so beautiful. I wish that I could just tell you instead of having to write it down and hope you never find out.” it reads, and even though he doesn’t really have a good idea of just who it could be that accidently left this note here, a little bell starts ringing in the back of his mind, trying desperately to tell him something.

He stands there for a while in the middle of his kitchen, leaning against the broom and staring at the note, dustpan and pile long forgotten, debating whether or not to throw it out since it obviously wasn’t meant for him to actually find.

In the end he keeps it, though it’s only because the doorbell rings and it’s Gerard bringing over coffee and his latest sketch of Frank’s next tattoo, so all he has time to do is slip the note into his pocket and make a quick mental note to continue the debate later, before he has to sweep up the pile of dust and dog hair and answer the door.

 

The second time Frank finds a note, it occurs in much the same way as before, except this time he finds it whilst scrounging for change in the couch. It’s lying just under the surface, a blank corner barely peeking out above the sagging cushion. Thoughtlessly he picks it up and tosses it aside, search parameters still intently set on ‘quarters’, and then something clicks and he drops his handful of quarters on the floor and grabs the folded slip of paper.

He opens it carefully, pulse quickening in anticipation, 

“You have the prettiest eyes. They’re probably going to be the death of me one of these days”

Despite himself, Frank blushes, and after a brief consideration, tucks it safely into his pocket before returning to his search for quarters.

 

The third, fourth, and fifth time Frank finds wayward love notes, he adds them to his ever growing collection and doesn’t give them too much thought aside from thinking that for someone who doesn’t really want to be found out, they’re doing a really shitty job of it.

About a week before Valentine’s Day, the note count is now up to seven, and Frank is still clueless as to who it could actually be that is somehow consistently dropping secret admirer notes in his apartment. He manages to forget about them until about a day later when he’s hanging out with Gerard.

Technically, they aren’t actually hanging out, mainly because they’re sitting on the couch hunched over Gerard’s latest draft of Frank’s next tattoo, and for how many drafts Frank has made Gerard come up with, Gerard should really be billing Frank for this consultation.

Frank would be lying if he said he wasn’t in love with the first draft that Gerard came up with, but Gerard is such a great artist that even if he won’t tattoo it himself, Frank wants it to be one hundred percent perfect. And it has nothing to do with how attractive Gerard is, or how Frank is afraid that after he gets this tattoo, Gerard will stop hanging out with him, because, after all, he really only accepted the job of drafting [Frank’s] tattoo because Mikey asked him to.

Even though they technically aren’t hanging out, and the last few times Gerard was over they weren’t hanging out then either, it _feels_ like they are. It feels like if they had met somewhere outside of Frank asking Mikey for a good tattoo artist and Mikey recommending (and weedling at) his brother, they would probably be best friends by now. 

Or dating. 

Preferably both. 

 

“So I was thinking that if you wanted something a bit different, I could add, like, a splash of red here and here, and then outline that in black,” Gerard is saying when Frank tunes back into the conversation, pointing at different areas of his sketch.

“No, no, dude, I love it,” Frank says, because, again, totally lying if he didn’t love it from the start, “In fact, I think this is the one that I’m using.”

“Yeah?” Gerard asks, eyes shining happily.

Frank nods enthusiastically, “Yeah man, it’s fucking awesome, I’m kind of glad it took me so long to decide on the design.”

Gerard shakes his head, “Don’t feel bad, it’s going on your body forever, you should take however long you need to decide on something as precious as that.”

Frank can literally feel his heart swelling to at least three times its size, “I won’t,” he grins in response, and then stands up to accept the proffered design and go put it in a safe place until it’s time for the appointment.

It’s while he’s putting the design away and his gaze falls onto the small stack of love notes that it finally hits him. 

_Gerard_ has been ‘sending’ him the notes.

The realization is elating, but Frank can’t actually do anything outright yet because, though he hasn’t known Gerard that long, he’s known him long enough to know that it would freak him out too much if Frank walked out of his bedroom and started making a move on him. Fuck, Gerard would probably think Frank was trying to pay him with sex!

So, instead of waltzing out of his bedroom and laying it on him, Frank does what any rational person would do and walks out of his bedroom saying, “Gee, man, guess what? I totally have a secret admirer and it’s so fucking awesome!” 

Gerard’s face is both hilarious and sad at the same time, and Frank feels a little guilty about breaking the ice that way, but he barrels on just the same, waxing fucking poetic at the idea of a secret someone leaving notes for him to find and about how much he’d love it if he could find a note, just like, pinned to his door or some shit.

Frank doesn’t stop talking until Gerard has turned back to a normal color, but even after Frank shuts up, he’s in a rush to get out, barely stopping to give Frank a hug before grabbing his bag and long abandoned coffee and bolting out of the apartment.

Despite how freaked out Gerard was when he left, Frank’s pretty confident that his plan worked.

 

 

Two days later, Frank is proven correct when he opens his front door to go to work and a slightly bigger than usual piece of paper flutters down to the ground.

He stoops to pick it up, noting the small piece of tape stuck to it, and grins so wide he probably looks like a fucking jack-o-lantern. He doesn’t really bother doing more than a cursory skim and blushing at how pretty Gerard describes him as, because now that he knows who’s leaving the notes, all Frank is focused on is letting Gerard know that he feels the same way.

 

Unfortunately for Frank, Gerard ignores every call and text Frank sends for nearly three days, right up until the night before Valentine’s day after Frank threatens calling Mikey for a wellness check. But even then, it’s a neutral toned message, informing Frank that he’s alive, just really really swamped with work.

Gerard is so full of shit, Frank almost can’t believe it. He talks himself off the edge of pissed off and decides to catch Gerard in the act tomorrow, formulating a plan until he drops off into sleep.

 

Frank wakes up by divine intervention.

It’s seven thirty in the morning and he’s suddenly wide awake, which is pretty shocking given he’s not usually out of bed until ten, at the earliest. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, Frank gives up on going back to sleep and rolls out of bed, heading for the coffee pot.

On his way to the kitchen, he happens to glance at the front door, and on a whim, abandons the coffee pot and heads for the door. He stands in front of it for a while, staring blankly at the chipped brown wood, and then opens the door.

Gerard is on the other side, looking at him with wild, panicked eyes, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

“Frankie! Hey!” Gerard says, a bit too loudly, obviously panicking.

Frank grins, a bit too widely, “Gerard,” he acknowledges, “did you have something you wanted to share with the rest of the class?”

“Uh, I, I don’t, um, what?” Gerard responds, face telegraphing _confused_.

Schooling his expression, Frank shakes his head and reaches out to grab a handful of Gerard’s shirt and pull him inside.

“Shh, Gee, it’s alright,” Frank soothes as he pushes Gerard back against the door, bringing a hand up to cradle his jaw.

“Frank?” Gerard asks, wide eyed and frozen.

Frank smiles fondly and pushes up to brush his mouth against Gerard’s ear, whispering, “I figured out who was sending me notes.”

“Y-yeah?” Gerard bravely manages.

“Yup,” Frank grins, stepping back a little, “It was you.”

Gerard immediately looks like he’s going to pass out, so Frank quickly steps up against him and interjects, “Don’t worry, I liked it. Mostly because I totally feel the same way about you, and I’m just going to clear the air right now and say that I loved the first draft you drew me and the only reason I took so long is because I wanted to keep hanging out with you and I also want to date you and have a lot of great sex with you.”

Silence reigns for a grand total of forty three seconds as Gerard parses through Frank’s rambling.

“So, we’re both kind of creepy?” Gerard asks, face scrunched adorably.

“Yes,” Frank affirms, and then steps up and kisses him.

It’s everything he thought it would be, and it’s fucking exhilarating to run his tongue along Gerard’s bottom lip and hear him moan and open his mouth in response. Frank slips his tongue inside, thrumming with unbridled energy as he tangles it around Gerard’s. Gerard reach a hand up to tangle in Frank’s hair, pulling lightly when Frank groans.

Gerard pulls back, smiling widely, “Just for the record,” he says, kissing Frank once more before pulling back again, “I totally want to date and have really great sex with you too.”

“Let’s get started on that then,” Frank says, pulling Gerard in the direction of the bedroom.

 

 

Some time later, around eleven thirty or noon, when they stumble out of Frank’s room and make their way into the kitchen, Frank remembers the day.

“Hey,” he starts, opening the fridge for milk, “happy Valentine’s day.”

Gerard turns from the coffee pot to smile and promptly blush. 

Probably because Frank is only in a pair of loose fitting boxers and is gratuitously stretching when he looks over. 

“Happy Valentine’s day, Frankie.”

**Author's Note:**

> And they lived happily ever after for eternity.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you had a great day today, whatever day it is you read this!
> 
> Comments are always greatly appreciated ^_^


End file.
